


now that we have space and time

by eudaimon



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eudaimon/pseuds/eudaimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another universe, Peeta ate poison berries in the arena and died during the 74th games.  Who was Katniss ever going to trust after that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	now that we have space and time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora/gifts).



> As an avid Katniss/Gale shipper, when I saw your request, I couldn't resist writing a little tiny something. Happy holidays! <3

She visits Peeta's grave, sometimes. They buried him at the edge of the meadow, when the Capitol sent him back and now, years later, the meadow-flowers grow thick and wild in the tall grass. He'd like that, she thinks. He'd see the poetry in it. She spends a lot of time along in what used to be District 12. She walks in the meadow and she hunts in the wood and, sometimes, she thinks she sense someone beside her but, no matter how quickly she turns, there's never anybody there.

And then, one day, she's walking out towards the woods and he's standing there, with a bag slung across his chest and heavy, chalky mud drying on his boots.

The fence is never on these days.

For a moment, all she can do is stare at him. He's standing there with dark hair ruffling across his forehead and he's smiling at her and all that she can think is that he's so _beautiful_ and she has no idea why she ever let him walk away from her to District 2 and what she heard about him and Johanna Mason.

But Gale was always hers, or he should have been hers.  
Her body was a forest. He knew the pathways that led through her.

Who else was she supposed to trust?

She doesn't break into a run. She takes her time and walks slowly to him through the waist-high grass and the budding flowers.

“Hello, Catnip,” he says, when she's close enough to hear him.  
Ten percent of District 12 survived the bombings. Ten percent, plus her and him.

It's enough to begin again.


End file.
